


Side Effects

by henghost



Category: ITZY (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss of Virginity, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24786895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henghost/pseuds/henghost
Summary: Ryujin's pills start to work as she and Yeji get closer.
Relationships: Hwang Yeji/Shin Ryujin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	Side Effects

It’s winter outside but the heat is turned way up and neither Ryujin nor Yeji can figure out how to turn it down, so Ryujin is lying on top of the white hotel sheets in only a t-shirt. The TV is playing an ad for plastic bags. She feels hollow, which she always does when spending the night away from home, like her stomach is empty, although she’s just eaten. 

Yeji comes out of the bathroom with wet hair and a plain white bathrobe and says, “I was trying to use the complimentary shampoo but I was squeezing the bottle and it wouldn’t come out so I had to unscrew the cap and remove the seal. Weird, right?”

“Weird.”

Yeji takes off the robe and bends over to search for pajamas in her suitcase, and in the corner of her eye Ryujin glimpses the milky expanse of her back. The man on the TV says, “...no leakage whatsoever!”

When Yeji has finished dressing she throws herself onto Ryujin’s bed, and some of her slimy black hair falls onto Ryujin’s neck. There are two beds in the room, for the record.

“Do you feel okay?” says Yeji. “You’re sweating.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“ _I’m_ not sweating.”

“You just got out of the shower.”

“So it’s not because you’re nervous or anything?”

“I’m not nervous,” says Ryujin, but it’s a lie. “You smell good.”

“Thanks. It’s the complimentary shampoo.”

Ryujin lifts the clump of wet hair off her neck and brings it to her nose. Lavender. The lamp on the bedside table flickers.

“Quit smelling my hair,” says Yeji. She’s got this toothy grin. “It’s weird.”

“Sorry. It does smell good, though.”

Then Yeji turns on her side to look at Ryujin, and the skin under Ryujin’s arms begins to itch. Yeji giggles and without warning props herself up and kisses Ryujin on the mouth. It’s not a long kiss. More of a peck. 

“Sorry,” says Yeji. “I should’ve asked you first.”

“It’s fine,” says Ryujin. She feels as though her chest has been caved in. “It’s fine.”

“I just sort of got the urge. Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s fine. Really. I didn’t mind.”

“I’m exhausted,” says Yeji, and she shuffles over to the other bed. “I think it’s bedtime.”

“Sure.” Ryujin switches off the TV and Yeji turns off the lamp. Soon Yeji’s breathing gets steadier, but Ryujin can’t fall asleep. She stares at the alarm clock all night, while the heat blares, and by morning she’s drenched in sweat.

#

Two days later they’re all back in Korea, and everything’s the same. Neither has mentioned what happened in the hotel. Not that there’s anything to mention. The first night back they sleep in their shared room and don’t say anything. Not a word.

The next day Ryujin has an appointment with her psychiatrist. She started seeing a psychiatrist after letting slip in a conversation with her parents that she sometimes contemplated suicide. Ryujin’s feeling was: who doesn’t? But her parents were worried, perhaps understandably, and they set up an appointment with Dr. Han, who after a forty-five-minute session diagnosed Ryujin with clinical depression and prescribed the antidepressant Luvox. One bright-blue tablet a day, with food. It’s been a pain to keep secret.

Dr. Han’s plush office smells of yeast. He sits behind a big wooden desk with Ryujin across from him in a squishy armchair. 

He says, “So you’ve been taking them?”

“Yep,” says Ryujin meekly.

“Good. That’s great.” He writes something down. “And have you experienced any side effects?”

“No. Not that I’ve noticed, at least.”

“Okay. That’s to be expected. Luvox takes roughly six weeks to build up to effective levels in the blood. Just be on the lookout. Nausea, dizziness, fatigue, that kind of thing. Call me immediately if you experience suicidal thoughts.”

“I can do that.”

“Alright, so, how’s your mood been recently?”

“Fine.”

“Fine, okay, so no abnormal amount of stress? I couldn’t help but see your group went on some kind of world tour? Was that stressful?”

“It’s, um, nothing I’m not used to.”

“Right, right, you’re a professional. And besides that no excess stress?”

Ryujin recalls that night in the hotel, her caved in chest. “No.”

“Okay,” says Dr. Han. “I’ll take your word for it. Listen, I know being here might be a little embarrassing, but I’d like to reassure you it’s a very good thing you’re doing. I mean, the suicide rate in this country for people in your age-group is high. Very high. I’d encourage you _not_ to look it up. And, Jesus, for people in your line of work as well! So it’s a very good thing you’re here, is what I mean.”

He schedules another appointment two weeks from now.

On her way back to the dorm Ryujin googles the youth suicide rate in South Korea. Twenty people per hundred-thousand. The number one cause of death in young people. Then she googles the side effects of Luvox. Nausea, dizziness, insomnia, fatigue, heavy menstrual periods, lowered sex drive, rash, and there are more but she can’t look.

#

A week later they’re in their bedroom with the lights off. Yeji is in the top bunk, Ryujin the bottom. Ryujin is far from sleep. She feels like she could run a hundred miles. Maybe it’s a side effect. 

Yeji says, “Ryujin, are you awake?”

“I am awake.”

“Do you remember when we were in the US and I kissed you?”

It’s the first time she’s mentioned it. “I remember.”

“And I said I just sort of got the urge to do it?”

“You did.”

“I guess that isn’t entirely true.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I had sort of been working up to it. I was trying to think of the right time to do it, and that seemed like the best time, when we were away from everyone. But then you looked so anxious afterward and so I thought it was better not to push the issue.”

“So you mean you’d wanted to kiss me for a while?”

“That’s what I mean. And also, well, I’d like to kiss you more. I like you, Ryujin, is what I’m saying. But if you feel differently I very much so understand. I just thought I’d tell you. You also don’t have to respond right away, if that makes you uncomfortable. I just wanted to tell you, you know, to get it off my chest.”

Ryujin tastes blood in her mouth from biting the inside of her cheek. “Can I sleep on it?” she says. “We should both sleep on it.”

“Good idea. Prudent.”

And then there’s silence. Ryujin breathes as quietly as possible. Her skin prickles and burns with each hasty bump of her heart. All her visions of the future melt away in her mind’s eye, and it feels as though there’s no solid ground beneath her. 

Yeji is above her, although it isn’t really the same girl she thought she knew all these years, is it? That old, familiar Yeji didn’t think that way. In terms of who she wanted to kiss. Or maybe it was all a mirage. Maybe all this time some fiery internal version had been straining against the societal bindings, the cell bars made of words like, “No, you aren’t allowed to want that.” And only now had she managed to answer back, “I don’t care.”

It’s that burning girl above her now. And she’s beautiful. Anyone could see it. Ryujin sees it every day. She remembers, there in the dark, the feeling of their lips together. Every time they’ve been pressed together. The sound of her voice. The scent of her sweat. Her laugh. Her smile. All the while trying to come up with the answer to the question: does she want more? And it’s so easy when she puts it like that. The harder question becomes: why does Yeji?

A few hours after their sleep truce Ryujin stumbles to the bathroom down the hall and stares at herself in the mirror and wonders how anyone could find her attractive. The sun is up when she stops.

#

They don’t get another moment alone until the next night, and throughout the busy and balmy day they can’t look at each other. At one point, while they’re practicing the choreography, Ryujin stumbles (perhaps from fatigue) into Yeji, and she has to rip herself away from the touch like she’s escaping an oven.

Then the sun is down and all the others have gone to sleep, but the lights in their room are still on, and Ryujin, trembling badly, says, “Yeji?” And they sit across from one another on the shiny wood floor, as if it were any other night.

“Yeji, so, I was thinking about it, and the answer is, well, yes.”

Yeji grins wide and says, “You’re saying you like me, too?”

“In so many words.”

“What words would you use?”

“I am amenable to the idea of you kissing me again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure.”

And Yeji bites her bottom lip and scoots forward until there isn’t an inch of space between them, and Ryujin’s face is aflame, and Yeji bends forward and kisses her, for longer this time, much longer. There’s a swell in Ryujin’s chest, a bubble of helium threatening to lift her off the ground. 

Yeji pulls away and says, “Like that?”

“Like that. Yeah, that was nice. That was my first kiss. First real kiss, I mean.”

“Really? Sorry. I should’ve asked, I guess. I just sort of thought, you know….”

“You thought how could I not have been kissed before?”

“In so many words.”

“Well.”

They giggle anxiously. Ryujin’s fingers are still shaking.

She says, “I didn’t know you were, you know.”

“Gay?” says Yeji. “Neither did I really. Not until recently have I found any clarity on that issue.”

“You mean not until you met me?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I think I’m still very confused.”

“About whether you’re gay as well?”

“I mean, what is this? Are we dating now?”

“I think _this_ is nice. That’s all.”

“It is nice.”

“Maybe we should keep it between us, though, for now.”

“I think that’s a good idea. For sure.”

They both stand and hug each other tight, and Ryujin feels her eyes beginning to burn, and she says into Yeji’s ear, “I’m so happy. I’m so happy it’s you.”

#

A week later they’re both in Ryujin’s tiny bed, squeezed together by necessity, tongues in each other’s mouths. No one knows but them. What’s happening is happening in secret, happening in spite of the fact that it is forbidden.

No one around them suspects anything. It’s not as if they’re acting any differently, after all. They’ve always been close. The only clue would be that Ryujin’s been smiling more often, but there could be any number of reasons for that. Not the least of which is that the Luvox has taken effect. She feels it now very clearly. 

In the morning, while she waits for the shower to warm up, she removes the neon-orange bottle from its hiding place at the very bottom of her cosmetics bag and swallows one of the sinister-looking blue pills with water from the sink. Then a few hours later it’s like a weighted blanket falls over her. It squeezes out the feelings of discomfort, fear, and she’s left in a daze of contentment, where thoughts don’t cling to the inside of her skull, where it’s easier to forget everything wrong.

And in the dark and quiet evenings, which are coming later and later, there isn’t so much of a barrier between her and Yeji. Yeji is on top of Ryujin now, straddling her, and her tongue is searching her mouth with no mercy, and for the first time in a while, Ryujin feels as though she’s right there, inside her own body, and it’s an incredible sensation. 

Yeji sits up and looks down at Ryujin and says, “Oh god I’m so wet. Sorry, is that gross?”

“Uh, no,” says Ryujin. They’re both breathing heavy. “That’s allowed.”

“Are you?”

“A little,” she says, and after she says it she realizes it’s a lie. But she doesn’t want Yeji to think anything is wrong.

They keep at it until Yeji says she’s too exhausted to continue, and she falls asleep with Ryujin’s arm around her. Ryujin can’t sleep. She scowls up at the wooden frame. She thinks: is there something wrong with me? It isn’t as if it didn’t feel good to be close to Yeji, who is beautiful and strong and warm and perfect. Certainly that isn’t the issue. Then she remembers the list — _decreased sex drive_ — and she removes herself from the tangle of limbs and sneaks into the bathroom.

She takes off all her clothes and sits on the toilet and looks down between her legs contemptuously. A few weeks ago she might have cried, but now the tears won’t come.

#

The next day she has an appointment with Dr. Han. She has resolved to tell him about the side effects. Using vague language, of course. He sits in his usual spot, far away from her, as if her insanity is contagious. He’s wearing a suit today, like he’s a secret agent.

Eventually he says, “So have you experienced any side effects?”

And Ryujin pictures herself saying — what would she say? I can’t conjure up enough passion for my torrid lesbian love affair? I can’t feel the burning ache of desire?

She says, “No.”

“No nausea, dizziness? Rash, difficulty sleeping, sleeping too much, decreased libido, difficulty reaching orgasm?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“And you said you’ve felt happier recently?”

“Yep.”

“Great. Just like that, huh? My suggestion would be we continue with the same dose for at least another few weeks, see how that goes. Then check back in. Sounds good?”

#

Sometimes, yes, she does think about killing herself. Not very seriously. She imagines it the way you might imagine accepting an Oscar. And idle fantasy. To keep her mind off things.

Sometimes she looks at her life, what lies before her, and it’s like every cell in her body gets the need to throw up. She sees the hours and hours of work without reward. She sees the streets of billboards and posters pasted across park benches. She sees the look in her friends’ eyes like: when am I going to have to make her lose so I can win? She sees the smog overhead and the news reports of a dying planet. She sees the discomfort people would feel if they found out about her and Yeji. And most of all these days she sees the look of unmitigated disappointment in Yeji’s eyes saying, _Don’t you like me?_

Isn’t it only natural to think about escape?

#

That night the setup is similar. Yeji is on top of her, legs squeezing her sides, tongues together, and Ryujin’s mind is beautifully blank.

Then Yeji sits up and says, “Ryujin?”

“Yes?”

“I want to have sex with you.”

“You mean right now?”

“You can say no, obviously. I wouldn’t mind.”

“No, I want to, too,” says Ryujin, and she isn’t entirely sure it’s true. She bites the tip of her tongue.

“Right now?”

“Sure. If you want. I guess, you know, I’m a virgin.”

“Me too, basically.”

“Basically?”

“It’s not important. So, you want to?”

“Um, yes. I guess I don’t really know the … etiquette.”

“Our relationship is outside the purview of high school sex-ed, huh?” says Yeji, and she giggles and contorts her body so that her face is hovering over Ryujin’s crotch. “Can I take off your underwear?”

“Um, go ahead,” says Ryujin. She can hear her own heartbeat. 

Yeji pinches the elastic on either side and pulls the flimsy cloth down Ryujin’s legs, and she can feel herself blush. Yeji throws the underwear aside and moves her head between Ryujin’s knees. Her fists are clenched because she’s sure her smell, her wetness (because she is wet now, that’s for sure), her hair, her quivering muscles will be too offensive for Yeji to continue.

Yeji says, “You’re so perfect, Ryujin.”

She squeaks back, “Thanks.”

“Can I kiss you there?”

“Um, yes.”

And the next thing Ryujin feels is Yeji’s soft warm lips against her swollen vagina, and she makes a sound like a whispered grunt and tenses all the muscles in her body.

“Did that feel good?” says Yeji, smiling.

“Yes,” says Ryujin breathlessly.

“Should I keep going?”

“Yes.”

Yeji moves her mouth and her tongue across Ryujin’s lips, her clitoris, and Ryujin can’t get control of her breathing. She’s worried, too, that someone will hear them, and she bites her knuckle to stop these strange involuntary noises threatening to burst out of her. 

Yeji stops to say, “Can I put my finger inside you?”

“Will it hurt?” whispers Ryujin.

“Maybe. I’ve never done it before. Or had it done to me.”

“You can try.”

Yeji extends her index finger and slides it carefully into Ryujin, so slow she can barely feel it at first. There’s a bit of pain, like something sharp, but it’s over soon enough, and Yeji is cautious and focused. 

Then Ryujin thinks: I want to remember this feeling forever, and she forces herself to think of nothing but the sensation. Yeji begins to move her finger in and out, and she reapplies her tongue. She expects it to feel like when she’s done this to herself in the past, like a building tension, like a pot being brought to boil. But it doesn’t. It feels like warmth, a dull ache. Yeji speeds up a little bit and Ryujin is waiting still for her body to snap into action, realize the immediacy of the moment, but it doesn’t — only that non-feeling.

She starts to panic, and any remnant of pleasure is replaced by bright white terror. She starts to cry without realizing, and Yeji stops what she’s doing and looks up at Ryujin with a gleam of moisture across her lips.

“What’s wrong?” says Yeji.

“Oh god,” says Ryujin.

Yeji sits up in bed. “What’s wrong? Ryujin, tell me what’s wrong.” 

“It’s not you,” she manages to get out. “Sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“But what is it?”

“I can’t _feel_ anything.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’ve never done this before.”

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s — it’s these pills.”

“Pills?”

“Oh god. I’ve been taking these pills. Luvox, it’s called.”

“What is that?”

“It’s an antidepressant,” she says, and the tears have stopped, although she still feels as though she needs them. “And one of the side effects is that I can’t feel anything. You know, sexually. _Difficulty achieving orgasm_.”

Yeji lies down beside Ryujin and puts the back of her hand against her cheek. “Ryujin,” she says. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Why would you be embarrassed?”

“I don’t want you to think it’s your fault. I really like you, Yeji. I really, really like you. That’s not the problem.” 

“It’s not your fault, either.”

“Yes it is.”

“Jesus, Ryujin, no, it really isn’t. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to be able to make you ‘achieve orgasm’ to love you. I just love you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“There are lots of reasons.”

“Please stop.”

“Sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry. I love you, too.”

“Well, that’s good. Let’s just be together, for now. We can talk more about it in the morning. Let’s just be together.”

Ryujin breathes air out of her nose. She presses her head into Yeji’s chest and closes her eyes. Yeji smells, somehow, like lavender, and Ryujin falls asleep quickly, with Yeji’s arms around her, and she dreams of them spending a summer evening together, far in the future. 


End file.
